The sun sets upon the horizon,
darkness creeps within,
and companion, old friend,
my loneliness returns to me,
Through the night,
as we sit by the fire,
me, and my loneliness,
we talk of old days,
of youth and bright dreams,
when the world seemed too small,
horizons, untold,
and every new day,
brought its songs of joy.
But now, the days are short,
the nights long,
winter frosts my windowpane,
and in my house,
upon the hill,
none live except me, and my loneliness.
We talk of old days, happy days,
when warmth and laughter lived with me,
and the welcome affections of my loved one,
and hope was born to me, my first born,
oh the stars in my eye,
the joy in my heart,
all the world seemed mine.
We talk then, of that day,
when news came from far,
a death, an old uncle of mine,
with none to tend him by,
“come soon” the letter said,
“Your uncle awaits his last rites”
So I left, with a hasty farewell,
not seeing the curse at my door
Oh how I wept that night,
when retuning, I saw my house in flames,
“robbers” the neighbours told me,
“they slayed your wife and child”,
They took my life with them,
and left me, alone, to live
I left that town,
where memories lived,
and built my house, upon this hill,
I lived alone, for a score of years,
and saw nor man nor beast,
and guilt, and remorse,
in tortured nights,
broke my weighted soul.
The years passed,
time tended my wounds,
and I found a new companion,
my friend, my loneliness.
The wind howls without,
the fire dies within,
and as I nod,
the benign reaper visits me,
for me to be lonely no more.
